The Headless Horseman
by Raimi
Summary: A new murderer is roaming the streets; a madman who beheads his victims and leaves strange clues attached to the bodies. Agent Clarice Starling of the FBI can't catch this killer by herself. She needs the help of Will Graham, a former FBI agent. Dr. Lecte
1. Starling

NOTE: THIS STORY IS BASED OFF OF THE BOOK "RED DRAGON," THE BOOK "THE SILENCE OF THE LAMBS," MOST OF THE BOOK "HANNIBAL," AND THE ENDING TO THE FILM "HANNIBAL." I DID THIS BECAUSE THIS STORY COULDN'T EXIST IF CLARICE AND HANNIBAL ESCAPED TOGETHER. I ALSO THINK THE MOVIE ENDING MAKES MORE SENSE. I AM PROBABLY ALONE ON THAT THOUGHT, BECAUSE I AM ONE OF THE FEW PEOPLE THAT DOESN'T WANT TO SEE HANNIBAL AND CLARICE TOGETHER.  
ALSO, I WOULD LIKE TO NOTE THAT THERE ARE A LOT OF INCORRECT FACTS IN HERE. BUT HEY, I JUST WROTE THIS FOR FUN SO DON'T TAKE THE SCREWUPS TOO SERIOUSLY.  
  
Special Agent Clarice Starling of the FBI examined the corpse of the teenage boy, or at least what was left of him. The kid had been decapitated and scratched up pretty badly. Any methods of identification were impossible. In fact, the FBI would have never identified the boy if the killer hadn't carved "MY NAME IS IVAN" into his back. Starling examined the rest of the boy's body. The body had been virtually untouched other than the head and back. There were no signs of sexual assault. The only other thing that was wrong with Ivan was that a note had been stapled to the sole of his foot reading "2."  
This was the third victim of the murderer nicknamed "The Headless Horseman" by the papers in three months. The alliteration of the name reminded Clarice of Buffalo Bill.  
Starling wiped the sweat from her brow as the hot Arizona sun beat down on her. The previous two victims had been dumped in the desert as well, all in the state of Arizona. Starling bent down and examined the note that had been stapled to the teen. There was always a number. The strange thing was that the numbers had been counting down. The first victim, Charlie Lipowicz had "4" stapled to his foot, and Alice Randall had "3." It was obvious that the killer wanted the police to know that this was his work.  
The resident forensic experts had not been able to find a shred of evidence on any of the victims. They had commented that "this guy is perfect," but Starling knew that was impossible. In the academy, they taught you that no matter what, when one person comes in contact with another, no matter what the circumstances, there was always some incriminating sign that the contact had taken place. Always.  
Clarice did the once-over that she always did, not expecting to find anything. Even though at least five people had examined the bodies for any DNA or evidence as to who this madman was, and none had found anything, she still looked.   
Clarice stood up and removed her gloves, stepping under the police tape back to her car. She turned on the engine, irritated as hell that they couldn't catch this son of a bitch. She didn't bother to wave to the other officers as she backed away.   
  
Clarice Starling entered the FBI field office for the southwest, nicknamed Cacti Corner. Nobody really liked the nickname.   
Starling flashed her badge at the secretary, and the woman silently buzzed Starling in. Starling went to her computer terminal and searched the Missing Persons database for anyone with a first name of Ivan. Only one name came up, that of Ivan Cavalier. Starling ran her fingers through her hair.  
FBI Special Agent Clarice Starling had been transferred to the Headless Horseman killings after the disappearance of Dr. Hannibal Lecter. The FBI had transferred her because they felt her services "would be better spent here," as her boss had put it. The truth was that the FBI wasn't getting any new information on Dr. Lecter, and they didn't expect to for quite a while. Starling had been in Arizona for four months now, and she had been unable to do anything the entire time. Tomorrow Starling would find out more about Ivan Cavalier, but she knew it wouldn't help. There was no other connection between the victims and the killer other than the fact that they had been abducted and then murdered by him or her. Every victim lived alone, with no friends or family that the communicated with. She hated being useless here. The offices were being flooded with possible leads, and several other agents were in charge of following up on them. None had actually possessed any truth whatsoever. Starling was just waiting for the Horseman to make a mistake, and it irritated her. She only had the bodies to go on, and no one could do anything. She had a sheet of paper with all the important information forensics had given her, and none of it even came close to a lead. The best and the brightest had been brought in to solve this case, and even Starling couldn't do anything with the information other than a suspect profile. All of the best FBI agents, past and present, had been brought in to catch this madman. All except one.  
Starling clicked on the database tab marked "Former Agents" and typed in, "Graham, Will."  



	2. Graham

Will Graham sat alone in an empty house. He rubbed the scar on his cheek from where the Red Dragon had stabbed him. It was hard, considering it went from the middle of his cheek to his eye. The scar had disfigured the entire left side of his face, thereby making him a walking can of woman repellent. He closed his eyes and tried to push the memories of Dr. Hannibal Lecter out of his head. Lecter had lead the Red Dragon to him. Because of Lecter, his wife and adopted child had left him, and his life had been destroyed.   
His wife had still loved him when she left. She always would. She just couldn't live with someone who looked like that, and who attracted men like that. It had been a hard decision, and Will didn't blame her for what she had done.  
Graham lay down on his couch and tried to sleep.  
  
Will Graham runs through the darkness, gun in hand, searching for he monster. Voices call to him from the shadows. He tries to ignore them, but it is not easy. Overwhelming fear sweeps over his body as he pumps the shotgun. He runs in the direction where he hears the distinct hiss of the monster. He knows that he must slay the monster, or he will die. There is no way to see where Graham is going, where he has been, or where he is. There is only darkness completely surrounding him. He stops for a moment, knowing very well that it may be his downfall. He raises his gun as he feels warm breath on the back of his neck. Quickly, Graham turns around and looks into the face of Dr. Hannibal Lecter, dressed in the last outfit that Graham had seen him in, the blue jumpsuit from the hospital for the criminally insane. The monster hisses at Graham. It raises a knife, hoping to finish what the Red Dragon started. But Graham will not let this happen. He fires the shotgun, and the body of Dr. Hannibal Lecter is blown backwards, crumpling into itself. Graham walks over to the body and examines the face. Graham pumps the shotgun again and raises it to the face of the monster. Just as he is about to pull the trigger, the face smiles. It is a terrifying smile, a smile that pierces Graham's eyes and makes him know that something is wrong. The eyes of the monster look behind Graham. Will turns around and is staring in the face of the real Dr. Hannibal Lecter, dressed in a silk robe and smoking a pipe. Graham tries to pump the shotgun, but it is jammed. Dr. Lecter smiles. "Goodbye, William."  
  
Will Graham woke up in a cold sweat, his heart racing. He noticed that he was awakened by the phone ringing, so he went to pick it up. He normally wouldn't have done that, but he needed something to shake him out of his current state.  
Graham picked up the phone and cleared his throat.  
"Hello?"  
A very pretty voice answered back.  
"Mr. Graham? This is Agent Clarice Starling from the FBI."  
He recognized the name. He had read about her in all the papers after she caught Buffalo Bill, and in the National Tattler when she killed Evelda Drumgo. He never thought he would have read the trash that was the National Tattler, but now anything seemed possible. He remembered a picture of her from there. She had had a very pretty body and face to match the voice.  
"I'm retired, Agent Starling."  
"Yes, I know that Mr. Graham, but I was hoping that we could just have your help temporarily."  
"No. No way."  
"Mr. Graham, please. All we ask is that you come down to Arizona and look at the bodies, generate some leads, that's it."  
"You know, that's just what Jack Crawford told me about the Red Dragon case."  
There was a considerable moment of silence at the mention of Crawford's name, a deceased man who had been a friend to them both.  
"Mr. Graham, this is nothing like that. All we want is for you to fly down here, give us whatever info you can, and then fly out."  
"Were you a friend of Jack's? Because you talk exactly like him."  
"That isn't important right now, Mr. Gr-"  
"Who are you tracking?"  
"The Headless Horseman."  
"I read about him in the paper. They said you brought in the best of the best to help you. Why do you need me?"  
"Well, Mr. Graham, because the best of the best couldn't help us very much. Now we need you. Look, we need as much help as we can get here. This guy has killed three people already. Each time there has been a number attached to the body. The numbers are counting down to something. We need your help to find out what."  
"How long would I be staying there?"  
"Two days, tops."  
"Mr. Graham, this couldn't be easier. I'm asking you to help us."  
There was a long silence between the two. Graham broke it.  
"When do I leave?"  



	3. Airport

Clarice Starling waited at the airport for Graham. She  
had always liked to be early, and the fact that she  
had been waiting for an hour so far proved it.  
Starling looked up at the monitor above her.  
Naturally, the area with "Miami" on the left side read  
"DELAYED".  
If she had had a choice, then she wouldn't have been  
here. This case shouldn't have been as hard as it was.  
All in all, Clarice wished that she wouldn't have had  
to call in Graham. She tried to ignore the situation.  
Starling opened her paperback edition of "Black  
Sunday" and resumed her reading.  
  
Will Graham had chosen the left side of the plane.  
That way he could push his face up against the window,  
hiding the scar. He had learned by trial and error  
that the sight of a scar that enormous frightened the  
young and the old both. He had almost gotten used to  
it. He closed his eyes and tried to think about  
something else as the plane landed.  
  
Starling Stood as she saw the plane pull in to the  
terminal. She watched the crowd of people slowly flow  
out of the plane. Mothers, daughters, whole families,  
tourists, and guys with roses. It was funny, there  
always seemed to be a guy with roses at an airport.  
After the crowd slowed down to a trickle, she saw  
former FBI agent Will Graham, the man who had caught  
Dr. Hannibal Lecter, the man who she now put all of  
her hope on, step into Sky Harbor Airport.  
Graham stepped out of the plane with his free hand  
rubbing his left temple, conveniently hiding the  
scar. Starling put on her somewhat emotionless smile  
and approached Graham. He spotted her and started  
walking in her direction. When she was close enough,  
she raised an outstretched hand. Testing her, Graham  
took his hand down and shook her hand, revealing  
the deformity of his left cheek. The only reaction  
from her was a slight bat of her eyes. Graham was  
impressed.  
The fact that she could handle an ugly face wasn't the  
only thing about Clarice that Will was impressed with.  
Her brownish-blond hair went down to her shoulders,  
the light glinting off of it showing a natural shine,  
untouched by hairspray. She didn't wear much makeup on  
her face, which Will liked. Her lips were soft, and  
most of what little cosmetics she had applied to her  
entire face had apparently gone to her lips, which  
were a sexy shade of crimson. Her clothes were very  
work oriented; nothing too flashy. He could see past  
her fake smile. Someone in her position had absolutely  
no reason to be smiling. Graham couldn't place who she  
reminded him of, but he suddenly got it. Bridget  
Fonda. She looked a lot like Bridget Fonda. For some  
reason, however, he couldn't shake the names Jodie  
Foster and Julianne Moore out of his head. Go figure.  
"Hello, Mr. Graham. I'm Clarice Starling of the FBI. I  
was the one who called you."  
Starling found it more difficult than she thought to  
address Will. She hadn't known him enough to call him  
Will. He didn't work for the Bureau anymore, so it  
wasn't agent. Starling eventually settled on what she  
had said, "Mr. Graham," but it still didn't sound  
right.  
Will scratched his ear.  
"Okay. So, where are we going?"  
Clarice was slightly surprised by his informality.  
"Just follow me to my car, and we'll go to the  
morgue."  
After picking up Will's things, they did just that.  
  



	4. Morgue

Clarice entered the morgue followed by Graham. The secretary nodded and pointed to the door behind her and to her left. Clarice silently opened the door and held it open for Will.   
When they stepped in, the deputy medical examiner looked up from the corpse he was currently poring over.   
"Ah. Hello Agent Starling."  
"Hello Dr. Renfeld."  
Renfeld held his hand out to Graham.  
"I'm then assuming that you are Will Graham."  
Graham nodded, noticing that Renfeld didn't even flinch at the scar.   
"Well, would you like to see the body now?"  
It was an interesting choice of words, since no person ever really "liked" seeing a dead body.  
Dr. James Renfeld led them do the left wall of body lockers. He scanned the doors for a while, found the one he was looking for, then he opened its door and pulled the shelf out.  
Laying on the long narrow bed of metal was the body of Charlie Lipowicz, the first victim. It was only slightly worse than Graham had thought it would have been. Clarice had seen the stiff so many times before; it wasn't anything new.  
Renfeld passed around the jar of Vick's Vapo Rub along with the breathing masks. Everyone applied the Rub then donned the mask.   
"Oookay then, let's get started."  
Renfeld pointed at the stump of a neck.  
"Here we have the spot where the head was cut off."  
Neither Starling nor Graham said what they were thinking, "No shit."  
"After analyzing the stump, we recovered a very small shard of carbon-steel. He was probably using some really big expensive knife. Luckily for Lipowicz, he was dead before the decapitation. We weren't able to find any other wounds that could have been inflicted before death, so whatever killed him must have affected his head. Maybe a gunshot wound, or a hanging. He wasn't drowned, since the body wasn't bloated as the bodies of drowning victims usually are."  
At the mention of the word "hanging," Buffalo Bill flashed through Clarice's mind again.  
Renfeld looked up at Clarice.  
"I'll turn the body over now, if you don't mind."  
She nodded.  
The doctor grabbed the left side of the body with his latex-glove wearing hands and turned the corpse over, revealing the carved-in nametag of blood. "MY NAME IS CHARLIE" looked up at the three figures.  
"Okay, the same knife that apparently decapitated the victim also carved, uh, this. You wanna see the paper attached?"  
They both nodded.  
"Can I have some help here, Will?"  
Will and Renfeld both flipped the body around, so that the head was closer to the locker and the feet were closer to the aisle. They then flipped the body back right side up.   
The three walked over and crouched to look at the piece of paper which had been pinned to the heel. It was a plain white piece of paper with the number "4" printed on it with black marker.  
"After analyzing the paper and the pin, we couldn't find any fingerprints or anything. The marker is just a Vis-à-vis, one of those markers you can find anywhere for something like 2 bucks in a pack. The paper is Xerox copy paper. The pin could probably be found in the same store as the marker and the paper. We tried to run a check on all stores that had sold both a pack of pins, paper, and a pack of markers in the same day to the same customer, but at the time we found the first body it was back-to-school-shopping season, and there was something like 200 customers who bought all three. We checked the entire rest of the body, inside and out, but we haven't been able to find any physical evidence of any kind. This guy is good, whoever he is. That's for sure. Well, that's it. Are you guys finished with the body, or do you want to stay here and look at it some more?"  
Starling shook her head.  
"No, I think we're finished, doctor."  
"Okay then."  
Clarice turned to leave, but Graham's eyes were transfixed on the body. Clarice was almost out the door when Will's arm shot out.   
"Clarice, wait. I think I see something."  



End file.
